


Outcast

by darkling59



Series: Annals of the Incomplete [35]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Episode: Dalek, No Rose, Pete's World, Van Statten's house of horrors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3550412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkling59/pseuds/darkling59
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there is, in fact, a Doctor in Pete's Universe, he simply never met Rose. And since he never met Rose, he never escaped from Van Statten in 'Dalek'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outcast

The Doctor hung in his chains, wrists suspended from the ceiling and feet strapped to a wheeled platform on the floor. He was no longer panting or screaming under the human’s ‘ray gun analyzer’ (actually a piece of Anaer archeology equipment, used for scanning _nonliving_ artifacts), but was under no illusion that he would be left in peace for long. Experience had taught him that.

He’d arrived in the underground base a week ago, following a vague distress call. When he’d arrived, he’d tried to find the source but had run into a troop of guards before he could get further than a few hallways. (Literally run into; he was fairly certain he’d left bruises on a couple of them.) He’d been restrained then frog-marched to the lead human’s office. When the primate saw the technology he’d had in his pockets, the glee in his eyes convinced the Doctor that this venture fell into the category of a Very Bad Idea. He’d tried to weasel his way out of it but his silver tongue proved useless in front of the other man’s greed. Ten minutes later, he’d been suspended in this dismal room, lit only by a floodlight shining straight down on him.

He hadn’t moved since.

Periods of torture were interspersed with periods of inactivity which were nearly as bad; burning pain, punishingly bright light, and mocking laughter vs. cold, pitch black isolation. He’d learned during one of their torture sessions that the man, Van Statten was his name, intended to keep him as a lab subject, an alien pet, and experiment on him until he died, at which point he’d be cut up and the pieces sold to the highest bidders.

Humans were downright barbaric.

“Stupid apes.” His voice seemed to hiss in the dark room. “Primitive-.”

The door slid open, blinding him with the hallway light and interrupting his mounting tirade. It slid closed a moment later.

“What?” The voice was human, male, and definitely not Van Statten’s.

“Hello?” This could be his chance!

“What?!”

“Yes, I’d-.”

“What?!”

“Are you-?”

“This is impossible!”

“I’m…wha-?”

“No no no no no! You can’t be!”

“What are-?”

A startlingly warm hand touched his chest gently, directly over his right heart, and the Doctor froze, scarcely breathing. Still blinded by the light, he couldn’t see his visitor. The only person who’d touched him so far was Van Statten, and it was never pleasant. Could this be a-.

“You have two hearts!” The hand patted his chest lightly, before withdrawing, leaving the Doctor even more confused.

“Yes…I-.”

“But that’s impossible!”

“Could you just-.”

“I mean, well, not impossible but highly improbable. Impossible would be if the great races suddenly came back and threw a birthday party for Torchwood! Well, except that’s already happened. Kinda. Sorta. Well…yeah, sorta. One member of one of them. Did you know they like cake? This is more along the lines of dalek impossible if that makes sense. It’s like Caan going back into the lock. Well, okay maybe not that bad, maybe as bad as…”

The Doctor closed his mouth slowly, tuning out the stranger’s chatter as his eyes finished adjusting and he got his first good look at him. He stared in disbelief. The human pacing before him was tall, skinny as a rail, and had hair that defied the laws of gravity. A long labcoat hung off his lanky frame, covering a dark jumper and trousers. The only hint of color in the outfit was the bright emerald green converse on his feet. He also seemed to be high on something because he was unable to stop talking.

“…I mean, it’s not like it’s even over yet. Maybe this is a ripple of the war. Ah HA!”

He whirled, pointing something small and slim straight at the Doctor’s face.

“Oi! Be careful with that!” he could barely stammer out a protest before the stranger activated his device.

Anticipating pain, the Doctor was startled when all the tool did was make a funny ‘Brrrrrrrip!’ sound and glow at his forehead.

For a long moment, the human was silent, simply staring at him and the Doctor met his gaze, uncertain as to what just happened. The Doctor recovered first, realizing he finally had a chance to get a word in.

“Hello.” He flashed an extremely fake smile. “I’m the Doctor. Would you-.”

“No! Nonono!”

Bollocks. He’d recovered.

“This can’t be possible! You’re a time lord!”

The Doctor started. How had he-?

“But…but…but…! There aren’t any timelords anymore! They’re all gone! You can’t be one!”

He tucked the device into his trouser pocket then started pacing again, this time in circles around the chained alien. His hands seemed to be permanently stuck worrying his hair to greater gravity defying heights.

“How do you know about time lords?” The Doctor said in a voice that had sent armadas of aliens fleeing in terror, convinced genocidal maniacs to work out their differences, and demanded even the high council of the time lords listen to him.

It had no effect.

“Of course, if there were timelords here, I’d probably find one. I don’t even like timelords anymore. Not after what He did. Laws of improbabilities never seem to be on my side. Or they always are. Depends on how you look at it. But, wait, if there are timelords here then why didn’t Torchwood exist? Unless…” He paused for a split second to think, but before the Doctor could get a word in, he restarted. With enthusiasm. “Of course! Brilliant! Since Rose doesn’t exist here, she couldn’t force a regeneration which kept Him from going There and making Her angry and stopped the whole thing before it could get started! Wibbly wobbly, Timey wimey! Brilliant, isn’t it?”

He turned an impossibly wide smile on the Doctor who simply stared back at him.

“What are you?”

The grin dropped as if made of lead and suddenly the young man, the Impossibility, looked nervous. He tried to chuckle dismissively but it came out a hysterical giggle.

“Me? Oh I’m nothing special. Just your run of the mill human, born and bred on this Earth. Yessir, just a normal human, me.”

He was backing towards the door, the Doctor realized with sudden alarm.

“Wait!”

His exclamation had the opposite effect of its intention. Instead of stopping, the visitor startled and fled, crossing to the door in four long strides. He was going to leave!

“Please!” The word slipped out before the Doctor even realized he was begging.

The Impossibility froze; hand over the button to open the door.

“What?” It was a bare whisper, but somehow the one serious word had more meaning than anything he’d said yet (and he’d said a lot).

The Doctor’s mind raced, trying to come up with a question that wouldn’t scare the man (human?) away or stop him from coming back. He could tell his time was limited and this was the best, and only, chance at an escape he’d gotten so far.

“…What’s your name?”

The Impossibility’s hovering hand pulled away from the button and he turned to look at the bound timelord, dumbfounded.

“What?”

“What’s your name?”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously and he pressed the door button.

The Doctor grimaced, closing his eyes against the glare and cursing a missed opportunity. There was no way he’d be back.

“James.”

His head shot up, regardless of the blinding light, when the whisper carried back across the room.

“James Noble. The Outcast.”

The door shut and he was alone again.


End file.
